This is a film of a rare, intimate perception that is aimed with pinpoint precision at a few unusual characters and the places they inhabit. At first its subjects seem simple, but like many people do, these characters are merely shielding themselves, hesitant to reveal much of their real natures except as as rare gifts in intimate moments. It must have been tremendously challenging to create and portray natural introverts like these characters, but as an introvert myself (I assert that characteristic without any touch of self-disparagement), I found this story rewardingly resonant of my own experience, especially of childhood memories, although indeed my outward circumstances had little in common with this story.
Almost never has any film conveyed a sense and feeling of a few small places so clearly and so effortlessly. We cherished the village in "Local Hero", but Fingerbone is an incomparably more realistic and deftly drawn place (despite occasional overreaching, e.g., the town's name, and a train accident that stretches credulity in more than one way).
For anyone willing to watch, dusk and the blue pre-dawn illuminate and suffuse these characters' lives. Sylvie sits by herself in the "dark", but there are wonderful secrets to discover in places that seem a void to others. Even well-meaning intrusions, like interruptions to meditation, can seem tragic.
Even more distinctly than Forsyth's other work, this film certainly wouldn't appeal to everyone, but it is a beautiful and evocative character study that has the courage to deal with personalities, events and emotions too obscure or inaccessible for most mainstream filmmakers. Forsyth deserves credit for having gotten this made in the first place, as well as for the eclectic perception that gave the film its many unique and worthwhile qualities.
Almost never has any film conveyed a sense and feeling of a few small places so clearly and so effortlessly. We cherished the village in "Local Hero", but Fingerbone is an incomparably more realistic and deftly drawn place (despite occasional overreaching, e.g., the town's name, and a train accident that stretches credulity in more than one way).
For anyone willing to watch, dusk and the blue pre-dawn illuminate and suffuse these characters' lives. Sylvie sits by herself in the "dark", but there are wonderful secrets to discover in places that seem a void to others. Even well-meaning intrusions, like interruptions to meditation, can seem tragic.
Even more distinctly than Forsyth's other work, this film certainly wouldn't appeal to everyone, but it is a beautiful and evocative character study that has the courage to deal with personalities, events and emotions too obscure or inaccessible for most mainstream filmmakers. Forsyth deserves credit for having gotten this made in the first place, as well as for the eclectic perception that gave the film its many unique and worthwhile qualities.